Penelope’s chanting stopped, and it became eerily quiet while we waited for something to happen. Then her eyes shot open, and Tyler and I jumped from her sudden movement.
Penelope’s eyes darted back and forth, looking absolutely terrified until she saw Daylan. “Daylan? Is that you?” The familiar tone of Penelope’s voice hummed, but there was a rushed uncertainty that didn’t belong to her.
“Annora?” Daylan asked.
“Daylan? I thought you were dead! What’s going on? Where are you?” Her eyes searched the café again and landed on me.
“We don’t have much time to speak,” Daylan said. “I’m on Earth and a witch has graciously agreed to help us contact you in the hopes you could aid us.”
While Daylan spoke, she remained looking at me.
“Who is she?” she asked.
“Her name is Swayzi Solasta.”
“No, Daylan—who is she?” Her voice was shaking in wonderment like she knew me.
“I am the daughter of King Oren,” I said clearly, my chin rising with confidence.
“How could that be?” she asked without breaking her gaze. I forgot for a moment I was still looking at Penelope.
“There have been attacks at two portal cities. Is it Medallion?” Daylan asked, avoiding her question.
“Empress isn’t safe anymore,” she said. “We have completely isolated ourselves, there’s a small group of us hiding in the caves. Medallion has taken The Aura and has opened the portal to Hell. Demons have free reign here.” Her voice tremored, she was scared.
Daylan turned to me and nodded. It was time for me to lead.
“Annora,” I began, “I wish we had more time to explain everything to you, but I’m afraid we don’t. I need you to gather all who oppose Medallion and let them know that I, Swayzi Solasta, daughter to King Oren, will no longer tolerate Medallion’s tyrannical reign. I am coming to take what is rightfully mine—the throne of Empress.”
From the corner of my eye, Tyler watched with astonishment. It was clear he didn’t recognize the girl I had become. Daylan was smiling, encouraging me to continue.
“You are the daughter of King Oren?” she asked, studying every inch of my face.
“Yes, I am.”
When I spoke the words, her eyes went from shock and amazement to obedience. “I am honored to meet you, Princess,” she said, bowing her head. “The resemblance to your father is striking.”
Princess. That title would take some getting used to.
“Thank you, Annora. It’s nice to meet you as well, although the circumstances are not ideal. Will you help us?”
“Yes, Princess.” She dipped her head again.
The plan was to draw Medallion to Earth, the only place we could kill him. If he got word that Oren had a daughter, Daylan and Ezra assured me he would not trust any of his incompetent Slayers to finish me.
He would do it himself.
“We cannot do this alone,” I continued. “We need the help of the faeries in Empress, the ones who are tired of living in fear and are willing to fight to get their world back.” I sounded more confident than I felt.
“Annora,” Daylan finished, “please gather as many faeries in the caves as possible. We need Medallion to hear whispers of Swayzi’s existence. We need him to know that King Oren lives on through his daughter. We will contact you again in a few days.”
Penelope’s eyes closed, and I could feel Annora’s energy wisp away. When her eyes opened again, she was gone, and Penelope had returned.
“Daylan, I’m still connected to my ancestors,” Penelope said. “I want to try and release your wings. Please take off your shirt and kneel in front of me.” Penelope’s brown eyes were wide, and her were pupils dilated. She no longer looked human.
He did as she asked, kneeling down with his chest close to his knees, his head on the floor and his hands resting beside him in a child’s pose. His pale skin glowed in the candle light. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of the scars that marred his otherwise flawless back.
“I need you to remain absolutely still,” she said as she gently ran the tips of her fingers along his back.
Penelope began chanting in Latin again but this time I held Tyler’s hand, unsure if I was ready for what was about to happen. I could feel the energy passing through the room when her chanting grew louder and faster.
Daylan lay still, a bead of sweat dripping down his spine, his back damp and his body trembling. His breathing quickened, and I knew he was in pain.
Tyler held my hand a little too tightly when we suddenly heard distant voices chanting along with Penelope. The voices echoed through the café but sounded muffled like they were trapped somewhere. Ezra paced behind us, unable to sit still while he watched his brother suffer helplessly.
Daylan’s muscles contorted, his hands balled into fists and small grunts escaped his mouth as he fought off the excruciating pain. Somehow, he endured the torture.
I started to panic, feeling like the room was closing in on me. The dark energy pulsed through me, covering my entire body in goose bumps. The chanting grew louder, more powerful. I thought I could no longer watch when all the candles blew out on their own.
The café was completely black. The only light was from the street lamps outside, seeping in through the cracks in the blinds. When the candles relit themselves, Daylan screamed an earthshattering, agonizing cry. His muscles seized, and then his scars split open.
His screams were unbearable, and I began crying, helplessly watching the dark blood drip down his pale white skin.
His back arched up and his fingers barely touched the floor.
When his back flattened again, huge, magnificent black wings emerged from his body. Tyler and I fell back in shock.
The black feathers moved gracefully as they folded gently onto his back. Daylan sighed in exhaustion, falling slack on the floor.
I untangled my hand from Tyler’s, and with a silent nod of permission from Penelope, I approached Daylan and gently touched his face. His wings fluttered when I did. “Daylan,” I whispered, laying my hand to rest on his sweating feverish forehead. My thumb wiped away the tears that had pooled between the bridge of his nose and his eyes.
“Ezra…” Penelope said, calling for the other faerie’s attention.
Ezra stopped pacing when he heard his name.
“…come kneel in front of me,” Penelope said as she scooted back slightly to make room.
I didn’t think I could handle another scene like Daylan’s. He remained in the fetal position, tired and broken. I ran my hand lightly down his arm and held his hand, waiting for him to come to. Every time his wings shifted, they startled me.
Penelope had her fingers on Ezra’s temples when she began chanting. I didn’t want to watch and focused my attention on Daylan’s angelic face and the intricate beauty of his black wings.
His eyes fluttered open, and I felt his fingers twitch beneath my hand.
It was difficult to focus when the same dark energy from before passed through all of us. The intense wave of each ancestor’s spirit moved through my body as if they were searching for something within me to take. I could feel the burden of life and the painful death of every witch.
Distant voices began chanting along with Penelope again, followed by the candles losing their light and silence. I prepared myself for Ezra’s screams, but they never came. When the candles relit, we were simply met with more silence.
“Did it work?” Penelope asked finally.
“I don’t know.” Ezra shrugged. “I don’t feel any different.” I could tell he was disappointed.
Penelope looked discouraged and tired. Her face was paler than usual.
“Penelope, are you okay?” I asked, concerned.
“Tyler, come.” Penelope waved him over to her.
“Why do you need Tyler?” I asked. I didn’t want Tyler’s fragile human form hurt by the supernatural energy.
“He needs to be able to see faerie
s,” she explained. “I am only connected to my ancestors for a short period of time.” Penelope’s breathing was quick as she spoke.
Without objection Tyler came and knelt before Penelope, and she chanted for longer than she had before. The energy in the room grew darker—sickening. The claustrophobic panic washed through me again, and I wanted to claw at my heart to give it more room to beat. Penelope was trembling, her voice shaking with each syllable. It seemed odd that a spell to allow Tyler to see faeries was more difficult than unlocking dormant wings from Daylan’s back. The ancestors chanting increased in volume, and I wondered if Tyler was in pain. When I looked at him, he remained calm, kneeling in front of Penelope with his eyes closed.
The burning candles grew taller, the open flames a couple feet from the wick. She was exhausted and looked like she might pass out if she continued. I wanted to interrupt her, but I feared I might make things worse if she didn’t complete the spell properly. So, I sat helplessly, my hand still holding Daylan’s.
Finally, the candles went out and the room went black. I couldn’t see anything. Ezra turned the lights back on, and Tyler lay unconscious in front of Penelope who looked several years older.
I crawled to his side. “Tyler?” I frantically called to him shaking his shoulder.
His eyes slowly opened, focusing on me.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Penelope, what did you do?”
“Sway, it’s okay. I feel fine.” Tyler sat up.
I looked him over, touching his face, his arms, then held his hand. “Are you sure?”
“Really, I feel great.” He smiled, showing his white teeth.
I sighed with relief.
“Let’s test out the witch’s work,” Ezra said excitedly. “Can you see me?” Ezra asked, dancing around the room like an idiot.
“You’re a terrible dancer,” Tyler joked while rubbing his shoulder he had fallen on.
“Penelope?” Her shoulders were slumped over, her arms heavy like weights were tied to her wrists. The bags under her eyes were darker when her skin was pale. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’ll be fine. Just need to rest.” She lifted herself onto the sofa and collapsed into the cushions, sighing in comfort.
Daylan finally sat up, kneeling down in front of me. His wings folded behind him, but they were long enough to drag along the floor past his feet.
“And how about you? You feeling okay?” I asked Daylan.
His dazed eyes focused on mine. “I haven’t felt this good in eighteen years,” he said, finishing a deep breath.
I tossed and turned the entire night. Our lumpy yellow sofa left me feeling tense and tired.
“Did you sleep on the couch?” Linda’s voice called out as she padded down the stairs. She had her glasses on and wore the white lace cropped shirt I wore to Mellie’s party. It looked so much better on her than me.
“Yes, I was tired. I didn’t feel like making the trip upstairs.” I yawned.
I left out the fact that there was a six-foot-three faerie with huge wings sleeping soundly in my bed. Tyler was not happy about the arrangement, but I assured him I would sleep on the sofa. Ezra had remained with Fay at the docks overnight, and Penelope insisted she stay right where she was, on the café sofa.
“Come with me to the kitchen,” Linda said. “I want to talk to you about something.”
I sluggishly followed her to the kitchen and sat at the table with my blanket wrapped around me. Linda made coffee for both of us, and I noticed she had an odd look on her face. Finally, she sat down with me and handed me a steaming cup.
“Yesterday, after the swim meet, I got a call from the insurance company,” she said. My stomach lurched, anticipating more bad news. “Apparently, there has been an anonymous donor. They completely paid off all our insurance bills.” She smiled. “Can you believe that?”
I was stunned.
“Wait—so, all of our bills are paid?” I asked.
“I guess so.” She shrugged, sipping her coffee. “Do you have any idea who could have done that?”
“No, not at all.”
“Me neither. Maybe I should go buy a lottery ticket; I think we’ve hit a lucky streak.” She was glowing. “I have to leave for Anchorage tomorrow for a few days to meet with lawyers and sign some legal documents for the donation.”
“Wow, Linda, that’s…” I paused. “A huge relief.” But who? I wondered.
“You’re telling me. I want to sing—but I won’t put you through that again.”
“Another relief.” I laughed.
“But I didn’t say anything about dancing.” She jumped up out of her chair, squealing. She had no rhythm, there was no purpose in her movements—just her limbs flailing about as she danced to the music in her head.
I laughed, enjoying how happy she was.
She stopped, breathing heavily. “Ah, I should really start going to the gym.”
There was a short pause, and then we both laughed hard enough that Linda let out a snort.
When our giggles turned to sighs, Linda smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and kissed me on my forehead. “I have something for you,” she said and walked to the closet. She opened it and picked up a huge box and set it on the table with a thud. “A little birdy told me you are going to the Masquerade Ball tomorrow night with Tyler. I thought about buying you a new gown, but since we’ve been walking down memory lane lately, I wondered if you might want to wear this.” She lifted the lid off of the white box and pulled away the tissue paper that covered a cream-colored gown.
I held up the dress by the straps and the hem fell gracefully to the floor. It was an A-line neck with spaghetti straps holding up lace chiffon fabric layered in all the right places—a bohemian backless gown, classy yet sexy. I couldn’t help but tear up at its beauty.
“Linda,” I whispered, hugging the dress. “Whose dress is this?”
“Mine,” she said with a sad smile. “I never told you this, but your father asked me to marry him before he left. He said we would get married when he returned. Making that dress distracted me a bit while he was away.”
“It’s absolutely perfect.” Warm tears slowly trickled down my cheeks. Maybe Oren had been a romantic after all. Maybe he really did love Linda, and I wasn’t produced just for political reasons.
“I need to get to the café,” she said. “Big re-opening today. Tosh will be looking after the place while I’m in Anchorage, so I need to make sure everything is tip top. How are you doing? You know, with…the whole two guys thing?” Her eyebrows bounced.
“I’m okay. Confused, but okay. I guess I should consider myself lucky. They’re both so wonderful,” I said, fiddling with my hair insecurely.
“No, Baby, they’re the lucky ones. But don’t worry about choosing. There will be a moment, it will come out of nowhere, and you’ll just know. It’s not so much about who you want to be with, but who you can’t live without.”
“When did you know Oren was the one?”
Her eyes dipped, but she smiled. “It was in this kitchen actually.” She turned looking at the stove. “He insisted on making me breakfast, but he was an awful cook. He was so tall, capable, and strong but unbelievably awkward in the kitchen. He treated breakfast like one of his battles. I just sat laughing, watching him struggle, and when he burned himself on the stove he shook it off like it didn’t even hurt. I bandaged his hand, and he looked into my eyes, and well…he had this way of stopping time, like I could look into his eyes and live forever in them. He told me, ‘Don’t ever let the darkness of this world harden you. You are absolutely perfect just the way you are.’ I’m not sure what prompted him to say that, but when he did, I felt like he could see my soul. I knew I didn’t want to live another day without him.”
“Then how do you do it? Live without him I mean.”
“I don’t, Swayzi.” She held my hand, smiling. “I have you.”
I smiled and wiped my eyes with my sleeve.
“I just want you to know
that it’s okay to fall, to love someone that completely. But, it’s also okay if you don’t. Just because you have these two amazing guys fighting over you doesn’t mean you have to choose either of them.”
Linda always seemed to say exactly what I needed to hear.
“I better get going,” she said. “Will I see you later?”
“Yes. I’m going back to bed for a few minutes.” I yawned again. “Maybe hours.”
“Okay, Baby, get some rest. But after I get home from Anchorage, we need to talk about school again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay.”
Linda kissed me on my forehead then set her finished coffee in the sink.
She slipped on her winter boots underneath her maxi skirt and shrugged on her fur lined hooded jacket. Just before she closed the door I called, “Hey Linda, you look really rad.”
“Thanks, Baby.” She winked, blew me a kiss, and left.
I wandered around the house in my bare feet, thinking of Linda’s advice. I couldn’t shake the image of Daylan lying vulnerable and helpless last night while I held Tyler’s hand. How I wanted so badly to cure him of his pain and suffering. Yet, when I had the instinctive urgency to protect Tyler from the supernatural magic, my hand was intertwined with Daylan’s. I doubted I would get my moment of clarity with either boy. How could I choose if a part of my heart was always with the other?
I wanted to wake Daylan but decided to give him a few more minutes and instead made a small fire in the fireplace. There were several pictures on the fireplace mantel. The first was of Linda holding me in the hospital. She wore a blue hospital nightgown—the same kind I’d worn many times over the years—while I was swaddled in a blanket that Tyler’s mom Silvia had made for me. Linda’s hair was a mess, and she was tired from twenty-six hours of labor. But her face was soft, her eyes were glowing, and she never looked happier than in that moment.
Empress Unveiled Page 17
